


What a dream (when will it end?)

by Lua



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen, M/M, general weirdness, goosebumps themed contest fic, implied future relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lua/pseuds/Lua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you ever felt the future is the past but you don't know how?" </p>
<p>Dream Of Mirrors - Iron Maiden</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a dream (when will it end?)

In all fairness, there wasn't much of a warning before Mello fell through the fabric of reality (so he was pretty sure he couldn't be blamed for it).

It was a regular day. Classes went on as normal and the weather could even be called nice. Well, perhaps that could've been a warning but Mello wouldn't give the day a second unprompted thought until he fell down a set of stairs on his way back to his room. Not that the accident was remarkable in any way. It was actually quite silly, a misstep, and he started feeling embarrassed before even hitting the floor. Although, his embarrassment was short lived as his fall wasn't as smooth as anticipated and the loud sound of his head hitting the floor muted his thoughts for a moment.

Mello stayed down for a moment, just lying on the floor. He stayed there, staring at the ceiling and getting annoyed at his luck, at the staircase, at his own foot and a possible endless list that was cut short as he noticed Matt watching him with what he could only assume to be amusement written all over his face despite Matt's neutral expression. He barely even arched an eyebrow at the blonde. "Cunt," Mello cursed under his breath as he sat up, surprised by the wave of dizziness and the real possibility of emptying his stomach right there.

 

Mello accepted the hand Matt offered him and that was enough for both of them to understand he wasn't feeling well. Mello let himself be pulled along, leaning against Matt as they walked. He focused on having a private conversation with his own stomach, forbidding it of any rebellious actions just for the sake of it. He didn't pay much attention to the door Matt opened and he would doubt Matt did so either. It was as unremarkable a room as any other room in the whole orphanage. And if Mello could barely remember noticing this room before, he wasn't cncerned about it as he was fairly sure rooms wouldn't appear and disappear freely in an existing building. An existing building with plenty of children trained to have rather good observational skills.

He let Matt lead him inside and focused now on his growing headache, almost missing Matt's amused chuckled.

"What," Mello demanded to know but Matt only helped him into the armchair in silence.

"Don't go to sleep," Matt said several moments after Mello's annoyed question.

Mello's only reply was a glare lacking any real anger to it and he didn't bother asking if Matt would go after an adult - as if they were helpless children! - or water or if he would leave Mello there to recover on his own while he went on with his day. Mello snorted. He was sure Matt would be distracted playing a game before Mello's headache even began to fade.

He leaned back and rested his head on the armchair.

And even if Mello knew he shouldn't, even if Matt reminded him, it didn't take long for sleep to come anyway. It would have been different if that was a proper warning.

 

Mello woke up in pain.

It was worse than anything he ever felt. It was much worse than a regular headache. It made his eyes ache and his stomach turn. It hurt deep inside his skin, deep into his bones, throbbing in his blood. Mello felt disoriented.

After several minutes of heavy pained breathing, Mello made a second attempt to open his eyes. He managed to open one of them and counted it as a partial success, focusing on sitting up. Slow progress still hurt but Mello had the knowledge - he didn't know how - that patience was necessary.

"It last longer than I thought," came a voice to his side and Mello turned his head the best he could to try and confirm who it was. Pain flared down his neck and he felt dizzy. "Are you gonna be sick?"

"Matt?" If Mello wasn't in pain, he was sure he would have questioned the situation a lot more. He couldn't help but feel distracted by his own voice. It sounded different, older. It also sounded as pained as he felt.

Matt snorted, eyes trained on the screen of the small device on his hands. Mello kept watching him, trying to will the words into the right order to ask for clarification. It felt like in a blink of an eye Matt moved from his chair to the side of the bed, holding a glass of water and a pill.

"Let me know if the pain gets too bad."

Mello tried to nod but gave up on it, just accepting the pill and the water. He lay down in bed again and tried to wrap his head around the pain, Matt and this place. He took a deep breath and focused on the sound of the buttons being pressed. Feeling detached, he didn't notice himself fall asleep.

 

Mello woke up as if he was drowning, gasping for air and terrified.

He looked around, feeling unsafe for no clear reason, and jolted off the bed. Mello didn't recognize this place and yet, somehow, he knew he should. It took him a moment to give in and explore the room.

Mello found clothes - they could be his clothes, he thought - carefully set aside. He found books he thought he could grow to love. He found guns and finding them made him wonder what sort of person he was. After the books and the clothes and the chocolate on the bedside table, Mello couldn't help but wonder if he would grow to become this man. This man he was sure he wasn't. Not right now. Not when he knew he had an exam in four days. Not when this wasn't his body. Even if Mello was sure he could be this person one day.

Then he found a mirror.

The horror of seeing his own face had Mello froze in place. It took him several minutes to be able to reach up a hand to trace over the scar. The fear of having it hurt him was overpowered by the desperate need for confirmation it was actually there.

"If you are about to freak out, just go back to bed."

Mello turned around in bewilderment. Matt stood there, outside the room in a tiny balcony Mello mistook for no more than a huge window, half obscured by ugly drapes. This was an older Matt, well past his teen years. A shirtless Matt. A Matt who smoked and shrugged at his confusion a if this was a regular occurrence. Mello stared, confused, until he turned around to face the view of whatever city this was.

"I didn't even go to bed yet. I can't deal with whatever this is about."

Mello couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at him, tempted to mock. He wasn't sure what he kept him from doing so. "That's your own fault," he said instead and Matt shrugged at him, looking cold and a world apart while smoking his cigarette.

All of sudden, going back to bed seemed like the best option. Mello felt as if he had enough in his mind to never sleep again but his last thought before sleep took over was a childish plea to just go home.

 

Mello woke up in a car.

He yawned and rubbed his neck, wondering where he was at the same time he wished they would take a break to stretch their legs. Mello glanced at the driver and nodded to himself. He wondered if Matt was some sort of anchor, keeping Mello's existence as part of reality.

"You'd look good with blue hair," Mello said. "But red is becoming my constant."

"You wake up crazy," Matt laughed, being polite enough to blew the smoke out of the window. He looked younger than the last time Melo saw him. "Now and then."

"Yeah," Mello frowned. "I do!" he turned to Matt, wanting to share this epiphany with him but suddenly aware it would be pointless. "I wake up."

Matt gave him an odd look and Mello shrugged, watching the road instead. Unconsciously, he traced the ring he was wearing under his glove. He looked down at his hand, surprised, and glanced at Matt.

"Crazy," was all Matt said, looking amused, and Mello had to ask himself if he would mind waking up to different Matts for the rest of his life.

As Mello drifted back to sleep, he thought he would have like the memories of this particular life, he would have liked to know how he got here.

 

Mello wasn't sure he woke up at all.

Although he was sure he couldn't move. He could see and all he could see was white. White walls? He wondered if he was in a hospital. Mello tried and focused on his hearing, tried to find the noise typical of hospital machinery, the noise of whatever should be keeping him alive. There were voices and he couldn't tell how close they were.

Someone was calling for him to wake up. Was that Matt? Mello couldn't understand what was happening.

Mello felt terribly tired and confused. This time, sleep couldn't come fast enough and he welcomed it without any wishes other than not being there.

 

Mello woke up slowly and he almost sighed in relief.

Mello wasn't sure if the relief came from waking up and being able to feel like himself, to move again and to not be in pain, or if it came from the feeling of normalcy that came with waking up this time. He sat up and couldn't keep himself from smiling. It was his room, his bed.

Mello wouldn't even feel ashamed to confess, after all the ridiculously and seemingly normal things he kept finding as he woke up, that he almost screamed when he noticed a very silent, horribly scared man sitting in a corner of his room. The man didn't move or react to Mello instinctive flinch. His hair was an odd shade of green, almost brown and Mello tried to picture the Matt he knew, wearing his orange goggles, and having that sort of hair. Mello couldn't help but flinch again when he found the man staring at Mello as if he was something funny.

Slowly, he moved his hand and retrieved a cigarette pack from his pocket.

"Go back to sleep. This is not the world you belong to," he informed Mello as if this was the sort of thing he told people on a regular basis.

Mello had questions, several ones, and no plans of sleeping again before getting some answers. He couldn't remember anything past the absurd confusion this stranger caused with his statement. He couldn't explain how or when he felt back asleep.

 

Mello woke up startled, bolting up on the chair he was previously asleep on just to find Matt watching him from the doorway. The redhead's neutral expression didn't betray his thoughts and Mello couldn't see his eyes behind the goggles.

"Did you do something to me!?"

Matt stood there and Mello could still smell the cigarette he wasn't smoking on him. A ghost Matt took a drag of a cigarette that didn't exist, both of them waiting for Mello to volunteer any information.

"I..." Mello started and took a moment to rub the sleep off his eyes. He touched the left side of his face, distracted by the lack of scar. "I feel like I fell through reality."

"Sure did. Been gone long?" Matt snorted a laugh. "Missed me then?"

Mello watched him for a moment, considering if he should say anything else. "Yeah. I kinda did. And," he stood up, "I'd rather stay awake for awhile. Just in case."

**Author's Note:**

> this was a contest entry for msrj's forum's goosebumps fic contest


End file.
